Magazine Posts

The words in my head,
keep spinning around,
much like a new blender,
but without any sound.
So why does it happen?
My words aren't renown,
unless you have mistaken me
for an old, foolish clown.

Something odd has come
over me,
for I know not who
I be.
I see I walk on two
feet, mine,
but notice I have a pair of
crooked arms
So what do you suppose
I be,
when it is only a reflection
I see?
A new normal is now on
its way.
A far different kind than we
have today.

What do you say?
Who do you see,
When the World
is not
your cup of tea?

The dog was young,
with a nose,
both wet and runny.
Pet me now,
rub my tummy,
wipe my nose,
all wet and runny.

I was sitting in the corner
of a smoke filled saloon.
A jukebox was playing a new,
Rock 'n Roll, Chuck Beery tune.
Having a beer, with a friend,
was my plan, for the night.
Have a drink and be mellow,
and avoid getting in a fight.
It was then I saw her.
She was sitting at the bar.
Her hair long; pulled up tight.
The laugh, I heard, was, well,
like the sound of a beautiful bell.
She looked my way, only twice.
No eye contact; not to me.
It was my entertainment of the night,
for there wasn't more, to be.

Scrambled eggs and bacon,
Rye toast on the side,
Is my favorite breakfast
Or when I can't decide,
If Oatmeal is my fore,
On this morning bright.
I am so hungry
After a sleepless night.

Along the shores,
of the Great Lake's water,
there grew weeds and willow trees,
with long limbs touching the surface,
of the lakes body. There lived a
man, you might mention, if you knew
of his presence. Stood he tall and
unassuming; purveying all his domain.
Here he lived unprotected. Here he
would live his life again.
He was the Captain of his making;
A strength of one, who only knew,
his was the last recollection,
of his world, from which he grew.
Go you now, with soul so pure,
resist the evil, on this day.
Stay with us, with your strength,
in this land where you pray,
where we all of us now belong.
Stay the course, remain you here,
be the strength, be thee strong.

A mind
at fault,
a mind
at rest,
isn't good,
isn't best.

For hours he fought.
Four hours he thought.
For ever the light.
Foremost the sight.
Forlorn on this day.
Forgotten, I can say.

No more the evening napping,
or the crowds of people clapping,
as I left my home on the shore,
of the clear water of Lake Lenore.
(to be continued, perhaps)

I must be the proverbial,
old fool, of a man,
who's taken in, by others,
with a money making plan.
This story hasn't happened to me,
but I have received e mails,
directed to me so personally.
Promising riches, you can't believe.
Just send us some money
and the fortune will be,
put into your bank account,
your friend at the Embassy.

A fortnight ago,
it said in the book,
so I decided I should
take another look,
to determine casually
what did the word mean
or would I use it
in my next writing.
I looked up the word;
this is what I found.
"A period of two weeks,
used after the name of a day,
to indicate something will take
place, two weeks after, that day.